A Matter of the Heart
by Frisco
Summary: John is struck with a potentially fatal illness, and his team rallies around him as he struggles to survive.


Sam frowned as her gaze swept over the faces in the mess hall for a second time

Sam frowned as she scanned the faces in the mess hall one last time. He wasn't here. She had tried every other place she could think of: his quarters, all the science labs, the control room, the balcony. McKay was nowhere to be found, and he wasn't answering his radio. She hated to use the internal sensors, to get others involved in her search, but he wasn't leaving her much choice.

Turning to go, she plowed into the chest of Ronon Dex. Without his quick reflexes, she would have landed squarely on her ass.

"Sorry about that," she mumbled as she stepped back with an embarrassed grin. "I wasn't paying attention. I don't suppose you know-"

"Jumper bay."

"Excuse me?"

"McKay's in the jumper bay. He goes there when he's worried about Sheppard."

A storm raged in Ronon – behind his eyes, in the set of shoulders, in the stiffness that marred his usual catlike grace as he walked past her to the sandwich table. "I see," she murmured.

The jumper bay was dark when she arrived, a dozen or so sleek craft sleeping in their berths until called upon. She trailed a hand down one, acknowledging once again the pang of disappointment that she couldn't fly these beautiful ships. A shaft of light caught her eye, and she followed it to an open hatch.

McKay sat in the co-pilot's seat, fingertips tracing geometric shapes over the controls. Entering quietly, she elected to stand behind the pilot's chair, resting her hands on the seatback.

"Rodney?"

He didn't turn, didn't really move at all, his gaze fixed on his hands. "I can fly this. Did you know that?"

"I know. It's in your file."

"Me. Rodney McKay." He continued as if she hadn't spoken, his voice distant, lost in memories. "I can fly a space ship." A childlike grin flashed then vanished. "He taught me how to fly, you know. I can't do it well, can't even fly in a straight line, but I can do it."

"McKay-"

"I'm a genius, Sam. I can do almost anything, but I can't sit in there and watch him die." His hands stilled, dropping in his lap. "Losing Carson and Elizabeth was painful enough, but they didn't waste away in front of my eyes." He shook his head slightly as he slumped in the chair. "I can't do it. I just can't."

This was the Rodney she had always suspected lurked beneath the ego and the sarcasm, a man who cared deeply for those around him, who understood the bonds of team and friendship and the costs involved. Moving behind him, she took a seat then gently turned his chair until he faced her.

"We don't know he'll die."

McKay snorted in derision, gripping the armrests until she was certain his fingerprints would be permanently etched in them. "Bullshit. He has a virus in his _heart_. Don't you think I know what that means?"

"Jennifer says there's a good chance-"

"I had a lab assistant years ago whose sister had this. I listened to his drivel for a month about medical procedures and drugs and whatnot. At one point, they left her chest open so they could use internal paddles to shock her heart several times a _day_." He glanced away with a wince. "You know me, Mr. Sympathetic. I was thrilled when he finally shut up about it. My secretary had to tell me the reason he was absent for a week was for her funeral. Apparently I sent a lovely flower arrangement."

"Not everyone dies from it. He may fully recover. It's too soon to know." She leaned to the side until she caught his eye. "But I do know that if you stay away, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. The hardest thing I've ever done was to sit with my dad while he died, but I wouldn't trade those last days with him for anything in the universe. John needs his family around him right now, and you're a part of that family."

"You know me. I'll screw it up, say the wrong thing."

"No, you won't. Just be there. Remind him he can pull through this."

"I suck at lying."

"Then don't lie. You have to believe it, Rodney. John looks to Ronon for strength and Teyla for wisdom, but he looks to you for the truth."

"The truth is he could die."

"He knows that. Keller didn't keep anything from him. But the truth also is he might live. _That's_ the truth you need to hold on to. You need to believe it as absolutely as you believe in science."

"Sheppard's the optimist."

"He's also the pilot on your team. But you still learned how to fly."

"You really think he might live?" Rodney asked quietly, pleadingly.

Carter smiled as she stood. "I know it, McKay."

He _hmm_ed softly as he turned back to the controls. Patting his shoulder gently, she left him to decide.

* * *

Ronon heard the pounding halfway down the hall. A guttural cry accompanied a loud crash. They would need a new practice dummy. Shifting the bottles of water into the crook of his elbow, he waved his now free hand at the door controls and entered, ducking as bantos rods flew.

"My apologies, Ronon," Teyla panted. "I did not expect your return so soon." She dabbed at the sweat on her face and neck with a towel then pulled the band from her hair, shaking loose the few strands that hadn't yet escaped.

"Here." He sat on the bench and handed her a sandwich and one of the water bottles.

"Rodney?"

"He'll be fine. Carter's looking for him."

"Good. He will listen to her."

Ronon munched noisily on the roasted meat sandwich as he eyed the remains of the mannequin. Even, or maybe especially, pregnant, Teyla was fearsome. "Feel better?"

Teyla poked at the meat in her sandwich and sipped the water. Her features clouded, and she seemed to wilt before his eyes. "I cannot bear another loss. First Carson then Elizabeth then Kate then my people…."

"Sheppard's tough. He'll pull through."

Her gaze turned to him, burning him with its intensity until he had to look away. "You fear it as much as I."

Cramming the rest of the sandwich in his mouth, he picked up one of the sticks and slammed it into the portion of the dummy still standing. "It's not right. A man like Sheppard should go out fighting his enemies."

"I would prefer he not 'go out' at all."

He dropped the stick and kicked the mannequin head across the room. "Yeah. Me too."

"Jennifer seemed… hopeful that he would survive this."

"Melena always said the mind had a powerful effect on the body." He gathered the empty bottles and wrappers then offered Teyla a hand.

She grasped his hand tightly and allowed him to pull her up. "Then we shall focus his mind on recovery."

* * *

Jennifer pressed her thumb into the bone just above her right eye, hoping to relieve the pressure building there. Elbows on her desk, she stared unseeing at the keyboard as she tried to decompress. The last few hours had been a blur of tests and difficult conversations. Sheppard was finally asleep so she took a moment to grab a cup of coffee and update her paperwork.

Picking up the voice recorder, she scrolled through the chart notations until she found what she was looking for then pressed 'record'.

"Lt. Col. John Sheppard, patient number 024414. Presented today at 07:00 with headache, fever, weakness, and muscle aches. Tests for influenza and various other Pegasus ailments that resemble it were negative. Scans showed an enlarged heart. Blood panels were inconclusive, but the EKG revealed a mild arrhythmia. An endomyocardial biopsy confirmed myocarditis."

She paused to take a sip of her coffee and rolled the Ancient device between her thumb and forefinger. No bigger than a cigarette lighter, it allowed a non-invasive excise of tissue. In her opinion, it was one of their greatest discoveries.

"While officially idiopathic, I believe this to be viral myocarditis. Accordingly, patient has been started on ribavirin to combat the virus as well as digoxin and quinidine for the arrhythmias. Oxygen levels are currently within normal ranges but have declined slightly since admission. EKG shows brief moments of diffuse T wave inversions. Patient has been informed of diag-"

The shriek of the heart monitor catapulted Jennifer from the room. Nurses and techs spilled from labs and offices only to skid to a stop at the sight of a sleepy Sheppard fumbling with a detached lead. His flushed face prompted her to dismiss the others and step quickly to his side.

"Let me do that, Colonel." Taking the lead from his hand, she untied the top of his gown and tugged the neckline down slightly.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Didn't mean to."

After reattaching the lead to his chest, she swiftly retied the gown around his neck. "I know you didn't. How are you feeling?"

Sheppard squirmed a bit, pulling the blanket over his shoulder as he turned on his side. "I've had better days, Doc."

"I know. We're doing all we can, treating the symptoms, but the rest is up to you."

"Yeah, got that the first time."

"The best thing you can do is rest and concentrate on getting better."

His eyes drifted shut as he grunted in reply. After a final check of the monitors, she returned to her office to redo the duty roster, assigning two nurses to Sheppard at all times then emailing the changes to her staff.

A tap at her door halted her reach for the radio.

"Teyla," she greeted. "I was just about to call you." She glanced at her expanding waistline. "Is anything wrong?"

"I am fine. I would like permission to sit with John."

"He's sleeping right now, but I'm sure-"

"You do not understand. We intend to sit with him until he recovers."

"That could take weeks."

"I am aware. We will take turns. We do not wish him to be alone."

Jennifer smiled for the first time that day. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

* * *

John rolled onto his back, careful to not disturb the leads as he had earlier. He stared up into the darkness, sleep now elusive, and wondered what the hell he'd done to deserve this. He flinched as images popped into his mind, choices he'd made that frankly he'd make again. Deep down though, he knew this wasn't punishment. 'Shit happens' was a popular phrase for a reason.

Viral myocarditis. Even the name freaked him out. The funny thing was that while he felt like crap, he didn't feel any differently than the other times he'd had the flu. But he trusted Keller, knew she had triple checked everything before giving him the bad news. His arms were pincushions from the IVs and blood draws, and he felt like he was sleeping in the control room based on the number of monitors surrounding him.

Something in the air around him shifted, and he searched the dark recesses of the room for the presence he knew was there. "Hey, Big Guy."

Ronon separated from the shadows. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Like Teyla kicked my ass with her sticks one too many times." His brow furrowed. "Was she here today?"

Hooking a chair with his foot, Ronon pulled up a seat and sprawled in it. "Yeah. She sat with you this afternoon, and McKay was here after that."

"You the night nurse?"

Chuckling, Ronon propped his feet on the edge of John's bed. "Nope. Got professionals for that."

"The entertainment, then."

"Exactly."

"What kind of tricks do you do?"

Ronon pulled a throwing spike from a hidden pocket and flipped it along the back of his hand with his fingers. "Have you ever seen my disappearing Wraith trick?"

John's breath caught, and he shifted uncomfortably. "On more than one occasion, I think. What else?"

"Escape from a hive ship?"

"Seen that one too." He felt his heart skip a beat. "Got anything I can use right now?"

"Wish I did. You've got to fight."

"Don't know how to fight something like this." His heart lurched then began thrumming erratically.

"Sheppard?"

The EKG began to whine an alarm as a vise squeezed his heart. "Get… Keller," he panted.

Ronon was on his feet and around the corner faster than John could follow. Nurses were at his side immediately, hands steadying him while tears of pain seeped from the corner of his eyes as he gasped for air.

"I'm here, Colonel. Hold on." Keller's gaze swept the monitors while she pulled a syringe from her coat pocket and injected it in the IV port. "Easy," she soothed. "Give it a minute."

Slowly, painfully, the medicine took effect. The tightness in his chest eased, and he gulped blessed oxygen into his starved lungs. Ronon lurked in the background, and John didn't miss the naked fear on his friend's face when their gazes locked.

John understood. While he had believed Keller, he hadn't been confronted with the reality of the disease until now.

He was really screwed.

* * *

Teyla adjusted the pillow for her back and picked up her sewing. She would never be a great seamstress as her mother had been or be able to cook like Charin, but she would continue the traditions of her people to the best of her ability. Her son deserved to experience his heritage. He thumped his agreement against a rib, and she smoothed a hand over the spot.

"Is he kicking?" John asked.

She nodded and stood, moving to the side of the bed to place his hand under hers. John grinned as her son gave another hearty kick in greeting.

"Hey, sport."

Repositioning her chair, she sat as graciously as she could these days and set her sewing aside. "How are you feeling?"

A half-shrug. "About the same. Nasal cannula itches though." To prove the point, he rubbed vigorously at his nose with the back of his hand. "Hate these things."

"They are… unpleasant but necessary."

"That's what Keller said a couple of days ago when she put it on. At least it isn't the vent. Yet."

"Perhaps you will not need the ventilator."

"Hope not. Wouldn't get to try your next attempt at tuttleroot soup." His eyes were sunken in a deeply lined face but still managed to twinkle with mischief.

"I shall make an entire pot just for you," she teased in return. "Tomorrow?"

"Great," he moaned. "Something to look forward to."

Her expression serious, she took his hand in hers. "You have much to look forward to, John. You promised that my son would have a family here on Atlantis. I am depending on you to be a part of that. You must concentrate on getting better."

Squeezing her hand lightly, he whispered, "Trying."

He stiffened under her touch, his breath hitching as the beat on the EKG lost its precise rhythm. It sped up then paused a long moment before sluggishly beginning again. A nurse hurried over, and Teyla gripped John's fingers tightly as the beat raced again then dropped back to its regular pattern. The nurse jotted a couple of notes on a chart and left.

"Don't… worry," John mumbled. "Happens a lot."

Intertwining the fingers of her left hand with his, she rubbed his arm with her right and quietly began to sing. The trembling muscles under her hand soon stilled, and his breathing relaxed into sleep. Her voice wavered and thickened as tears trickled down her cheeks, but she continued her song of thanksgiving for the life before her.

* * *

Rodney twisted in his chair, trying to get more comfortable while avoiding looking directly at Sheppard. The man's gray pallor and blue-tinged lips were evident even under the oxygen mask. McKay scrolled through emails of project updates and mission reports, smiling when he found an email from his niece. If all children were like her, he might be able to tolerate them.

"What's… so… funny?"

He glanced sharply at Sheppard. "Put that mask back on."

"Answer… question."

"Fine. I was reading an email Madison sent. Apparently she received the highest grade of anyone in her class on her last math test."

"Of course. Part… McKay."

"Mask," he said pointedly.

Sheppard grunted but slid the oxygen mask back over his mouth and nose.

"She says that she also did well on the grade three tests – not bad for a five year old – and that… oh, great. Jeannie promised I would bring her a gift in honor of her accomplishments my next trip back."

He could see Sheppard's shoulders shaking out of the corner of his eye.

"Laugh it up. Who do you think I'm going to make go shopping with me?" He glanced through the rest of the message. "And oh my God – she's decided to be a professional surfer when she grows up. I wonder where she got that idea from."

Sheppard waved a hand at him and lifted the mask. "Someone… has to… teach her how… to be… cool."

"You are corrupting a brilliant scientist in the making."

"I've found… most brilliant… scientists need… a little… corrupting."

"Mask." Rodney folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. "God only knows what else she'll pick up from you. Just forego the hairstyling tips, please." He couldn't hold in the laugh when Sheppard flipped him off. "Eloquent as always."

"Bite… me."

"Gross." He scanned through his email again. "Zelenka's scheduled the next chess tournament three weeks from tomorrow." He arched a brow. "Think you can be ready by then? He's getting a bit cocky, really needs his ass kicked."

Sheppard pulled the mask to his chin. "You… do it. Don't think… I'll be-" His face contorted as the EKG machine went wild for a moment.

Rodney threw his laptop on the floor and pushed the oxygen mask back into place. He held Sheppard's shoulders as the man arched and shuddered against the pain. "Breathe, John, just breathe."

Footsteps raced up behind him as the sinus rhythm suddenly returned to normal. Medical personnel buzzed around them for a minute then retreated quietly. He continued to grip Sheppard's shoulders until John calmed and his breathing eased. Rodney swallowed thickly at the raw fear he saw in his friend's eyes.

"Do you know how many times I've watched you die?"

Sheppard winced and turned his head.

"Look at me, John. Do you know? Because I've lost count."

A slight shake of the head.

"There was the incident with the Iratus bug and when you flew a nuke-loaded jumper into a hive ship and the time you started a war between two hives." He released his grip and stepped back. "I watched while Kolya tied you down and fed you to a Wraith. Do you know what all of those events have in common?"

Another head shake.

"You didn't die. You beat the odds every time whether it was the Genii or Wraith or Replicators. You can beat this too."

"Not… sure."

"Well, I am." And strangely, he really was. His voice shook, but he continued as calmly as he could. "And we're going to help you do it. You didn't give up on Ronon when the Wraith planted a tracker in his back and dropped him off on Sateda. You didn't give up on Teyla when the Bolo Kai captured her. You didn't give up on me when that ascension machine scrambled my DNA. You didn't let me die when Jeannie…" He paused as his throat closed. "…when Jeannie was infected with nanites; you said I was an invaluable member of your team. Well, you're the invaluable leader of this team, and we aren't going to let you die. OK?"

Emotion flickered across Sheppard's face, finally resolving into stubborn determination. "OK."

"Good because I'd hate to have to call Ronon down here to kick your ass."

"Me… too."

"Mask!" Rodney huffed and dragged his chair closer. Locating his laptop, he plopped down. "Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. You were going to teach Zelenka a lesson in the next chess tournament."

* * *

"Are you certain, John?

"Of course he's certain. Just because he can't eat doesn't mean we have to starve."

"Rodney!" Teyla scolded.

John did his best to smile around the intubation. He didn't mind if they ate in front of him; he wanted their company. Plucking at Teyla's sleeve, he nodded, trying to allay her concerns with his eyes.

"Very well," she sighed.

Ronon set the tray on a table in the midst of their semi-circle as Teyla handed out bottles of water and Rodney tucked his napkin in his shirt.

At John's eye roll, McKay exclaimed, "What? It's spaghetti, and I don't feel like doing laundry today."

John glanced to Ronon who cuffed Rodney lightly on the back of the head.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Ronon shrugged. "Sheppard told me to."

"Oh, yeah, right."

He arched a brow at Ronon who did it again.

"OK, fine. You can stop now," McKay groused as he slurped a forkful of noodles.

John laughed to himself, too weak to do anything else, and closed his eyes to bask in the banter around him. Rodney bitched about everything: overdue projects, gate diagnostics, the scientists who worked for him in general and Zelenka in particular. Ronon told a ridiculously tall tale about a childhood hero who held off a Wraith attack with a stick and a can of gunpowder. McKay's retort of, "Oh, sure, a Satedan MacGyver," earned him another thwack on the head. Teyla chatted about the baby gifts she had received, even brought a couple for him to see, her glare quelling the sarcastic comment forming on Rodney's lips.

Relaxing as their conversation washed over him, he had just enough time to curse his traitorous heart before the EKG alarms began to shriek. His vision grayed as his heart triple timed it, pain slamming into his chest. A reflexive gasp left him gagging on the vent tube, and he flailed in panic as he struggled. Clattering chairs, shouting voices, racing footsteps, strong hands. Then nothing.

* * *

"Would you stop with the pacing!" Rodney shouted. "Just stop!"

Ronon wheeled in anger then felt it drain as he got a good look at McKay: heels of his palms pressed into his eyes as if he were trying to push the image of Sheppard and the defibrillator out of his head. He was pale, shaken, afraid. Ronon knew exactly how he felt.

"Sorry," Rodney mumbled. "I- I just- Dammit!" he swore, pounding a fist against the wall behind him.

Teyla curled an arm through McKay's. "I am certain Jennifer was able to correct his heart's rhythm. She will let us return soon."

Ronon moved to Rodney's other side, bumping his shoulder gently. "He'll make it."

"I know. I just wish he didn't cut it so damn close."

They jumped as the doors slid open and Keller waved them in. "We've got him stabilized. He's asleep."

Techs cleaned spilled food and used syringes from the floor around Sheppard's bed. Rodney and Teyla rushed forward, but Ronon hung back, soaking in the sound of a steady heartbeat. The visual of Sheppard arcing as the current hit his body was going to stay with him for a long time. John had such presence that Ronon had a hard time recognizing him as the small man buried beneath the wires and tubes, surrounded by machines.

Teyla glanced back at him. "Ronon?"

He joined them as they reset their semi-circle and settled in. They weren't leaving again.

* * *

"The arrhythmias have decreased in severity and occurrence," Keller announced happily, "and the inflammation is going down. I think we've finally turned the corner."

Teyla's smile was radiant. "That is good news indeed. Thank you, Doctor."

"I can't take much credit for it. I've never seen anyone fight that hard to live."

Keller swept a fond gaze over the team. Rodney was rubbing the sleep from his eyes in the bed to Sheppard's left while Teyla struggled to a sitting position on the bed to his right and Ronon leaned back in a chair between them. Their two day vigil had been mostly in silence, even McKay. The colonel had had very few lucid moments, and the defibrillator had received a workout, but Sheppard's skin tone was returning to normal, and the blue had finally left his lips.

"He should wake up soon," Jennifer continued. "We'll start weaning him off the vent too."

"Was there any damage to his heart?" Rodney asked hesitantly.

"Nothing permanent."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's going to be weak as a kitten for a while, but he should fully recover," Keller answered. "He'll get frustrated, have setbacks, push himself too hard."

"We will care for him," Teyla assured her.

"I know you will, and I know Col. Sheppard will do his part. Just remember that this is going to take time."

* * *

"Would you like another pillow, John?" Teyla asked.

He shook his head; words required more energy than he had. His bones felt like lead pipes, and all he could do was blink tiredly at her as she rolled a tray table to him.

"Now that Dr. Keller has removed the ventilator, she says you may begin eating again. I have brought some broth." She smiled ruefully at his barely arched brow. "I did not make it."

She lifted the spoon to his mouth, and he sipped cautiously. It was warm but not hot and tastier than he'd imagined. His stomach constricted as the liquid hit, and he swallowed hard to keep the soup where it belonged. After a moment, he nodded to Teyla who carefully offered another bite. John would have felt humiliated if it were anyone else feeding him, but somehow with Teyla it wasn't so bad. Plus he knew that even if he'd had the strength to lift the spoon, there was no way he could have gotten it to his mouth without spilling the broth all over himself.

He managed three more bites before his stomach insisted it was full. When he shook his head at the proffered spoon, Teyla set it aside and dabbed his chin with a napkin.

"Do not be discouraged. It will take time to rebuild your appetite and strength."

"Make good mom."

She blinked in surprise, and a delighted smile appeared. "You truly believe that?"

He nodded.

"Thank you, John. I am pleased you think so. I have had my doubts." She pulled his toiletry kit from the bag she carried. "We thought you might like a few of your personal care items."

God, he loved his team.

"Would you prefer for me to leave them here or the infirmary washroom?"

"Here," he mouthed.

"Very well." She put it on his bedside table. "Do you need anything else?"

"Shave."

Her brows shot up. "You wish to shave?"

He nodded, giving her his best puppy dog eyes.

"Do you wish me to assist you?"

He nodded again.

Her expression flitted between bemused and amused. "I will return." Teyla retrieved a towel and a cup of warm water from the bathroom. "Are you ready?"

Words couldn't describe how ready he was to get the itchy scruff off his face and neck. At his nod, she pulled the razor and shaving cream from his bag and began.

* * *

Keller studied the scanner display and grinned at him. "Heart's looking good, Colonel. The inflammation is completely gone, and the muscle appears healthy. How do you feel?"

"Tired," John grumped.

"Well, that's to be expected. Your heart has been through a trauma, and your body has been lying in that bed for three weeks. On that note, I've asked Ronon to give you a hand. It's time to get you up and moving."

"That's the best news I've heard yet. When?"

"How about now?" Ronon lounged in the infirmary door.

"Now's good," John said.

Ronon strolled over as John reached for the bed's railing.

"Ground rules first, gentlemen," Keller stated. "This is not a competition. Do not push yourself too hard, or you'll end up spending even more quality time here. I want you to start with walking across the room. That's it. No more, no less. If you feel weak or lightheaded, you allow Ronon to carry you back. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am." John gave a mock salute.

"Good. We'll increase your activity bit by bit. You'll be back in your quarters before you know it."

"Promises, promises," he muttered as she walked away. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are."

John grasped Ronon's hand but couldn't pull himself up. Chagrined, he sighed, "Little help?"

His teammate slid a hand under his back and lifted him to a sitting position. John gripped his arm tightly and eased his legs over the edge of the bed. Ronon pulled him up, catching him as his knees buckled.

"Easy, Sheppard. Your body will remember. Give it time."

His legs wobbled as he struggled to stand upright. Closing his eyes, he waited until the spinning stopped. "OK. I'm ready."

John took a tentative step then another, Ronon's left hand under his arm and his right clenching the scrub top at the small of his back. Slowly, painstakingly, they made their way the twelve steps across the room.

By the time they reached the far wall, he was drenched in sweat and shaking. "I think this is as far as I go."

Ronon scooped him up and crossed back in three long strides.

"Show off," John huffed.

"Don't worry," Ronon said with a grin. "You'll be back in shape in no time. Or at least in as much shape as you were before this started."

He took a long drink of water. "My shape was just fine."

"Right. That's what McKay says too."

"Oh, that's low." John gathered the sheet to his chin.

"If the hat is your size…."

"What?"

"Got that from Zelenka. You should hear it in Czech."

* * *

"So I told Bradshaw that if he ever did anything as asinine again, I was going to ship him back to Earth through the Midway station."

"Midway was blown up, remember?"

"Of course I remember. I was there. Your point?"

John rolled his eyes. "Nobody actually believes you'll do that, McKay. Your crotchety scientist cover was blown years ago."

Rodney looked up from the backpack he was digging in. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a big softie, and everybody knows it."

"Take that back, or I won't give you your present."

"You got me a present?"

"Take it back."

"I take it back. You are a cold-hearted bastard whom everyone hates."

"Thank you. Here."

McKay handed over a stack of magazines, a couple of books, and a small sack. John thumbed through them quickly: _Car and Driver_, _Golf Digest_, _Aviation Week and Space Technology_, _Cosmo_….

"_Cosmo_?"

"What? Oh, sorry. That's for Teyla." Rodney snatched it from his hands and crammed it in the pack.

The sack held a bag of Double Stuffed Oreos. "Sweet!" And both books were Sudoku puzzle books. The exact same puzzle book. "I don't get it."

"One's for me, and one's for you."

"And?"

"It's a contest. First person to finish wins. I had Jeannie tear the answers out of the back so you can't cheat."

"I am not the notorious cheater here."

"Are you ever going to let that go? Dirigibles were well within the given parameters."

"Dream on, Rodney. What do I win?"

"Huh?"

"When I kick your ass at this, what do I win?"

McKay leaned back and rubbed his chin. "I don't know. What do you want?"

"Your _Batman_ DVD collection."

"What? The whole thing?"

"Just the ones of the '60s TV show."

"But those are special collector's editions," Rodney protested.

"Well, if you're afraid of losing…."

"I'm not going to lose. _When_ I win, I get… a month off from team workouts."

John crossed his arms. "Not a chance. Those are for your safety."

"Fine. Then I want your Gareth Koch CDs."

"Done. When do we start?"

McKay grinned and pulled two pencils from the backpack. John wriggled against the pillows at his back until he was comfortable then tackled the first puzzle.

* * *

"Want to go for a ride?"

John forced one lid open. Ronon grinned at him from the foot of his bed, wheelchair in hand. "Really?"

"Yep. Keller said you can get some fresh air."

"Then help me up."

Ronon lifted him with embarrassing ease and settled him in the chair, spreading a blanket over his legs. "Teyla said so."

"Never argue with a pregnant woman."

"No kidding." Ronon rolled the IV stand within John's reach and placed the oxygen canister underneath the wheelchair. "Did you hear what she did to the practice dummy?" he asked as he pushed the chair out the door and down the hall to the transporter.

"Yeah. Lorne brought the head by. I hear someone made a wig of black, spiky hair for it and put it on display in the military crew section.

Ronon was the picture of pure innocence. "Wonder who would do something like that."

They exited onto the east pier. A gentle breeze of brine greeted him, and fluffy clouds floated in a radiant azure sky. Chairs lined the edge of the platform where McKay and Teyla waited for them.

John snickered as he spied the fishing pole in Rodney's hand. "Tell me someone has a camera."

Rodney glowered at him. "Are you sure Keller said it was safe for you to be extubated?"

"Get use to it, McKay. I've got two weeks of silence to make up for."

Ronon wedged him next to Teyla and sat beside him. "Heard there were some interesting fish on this planet." He cast the line and stretched his legs.

"Wouldn't have thought you would like fishing." John eyed the extra pole but contented himself with watching for now. "Not much action."

"It's an exercise in patience like tracking and hunting."

Teyla reeled in her line, grinning at the large cyan and crimson striped fish dangling on the end. She winked at John and turned in Rodney's direction. "Can you help me with this?"

McKay did a great fish impersonation as he gaped at her. "Me? Are you kidding?"

"I suppose I could do it myself," she said with a pitiful sigh and made a great show of trying to stand.

"Oh, alright. Fine," Rodney huffed. "Give it here." His nose wrinkled as he grasped the fish with two fingers and tried to remove the hook.

"Be careful," Teyla warned. "That is dinner."

McKay looked aghast as he jerked the fish from the hook and tossed it in the water. "I don't think so."

John and Ronon guffawed as she baited her hook again and dropped it in the water.

"I have a long memory, Rodney. After my son is born, we shall discuss this again. In the gym."

Sputtering in indignation, McKay attempted to dig himself out of the hole he was in, shooting a pleading glance at Sheppard.

John laughed until Ronon had to turn up the oxygen. "Don't look at me. You got yourself into that one."

McKay grumbled about ungrateful flyboys and psychotic Athosians, but John didn't miss the sly grin he gave Teyla. Pulling the blanket up to his shoulders, he fell asleep to the sound of crashing waves and the chatter of friends.

* * *

John pushed up slowly from the scanner table. "This is taking too long, Doc."

"It's only been a couple of weeks," Keller replied as she notated his chart. "I told you this would take time. And you've made amazing progress."

"Yeah, I can walk to the bathroom by myself. Yea me."

"That is a major accomplishment considering how close you were to dying not so long ago. You're eating solid food now which will increase your energy level and your stamina. Don't give up yet."

"I'm not giving up. I need to get back out there. Teyla's people are still missing."

Keller kept a steadying hand on his elbow as he shuffled back to his bed. "I'm aware of that, but you have to be patient. Let your body heal."

"Patience is not my strong suit."

"I would have never guessed," she chuckled. "Wait here just a minute. I have a surprise for you."

She pulled the privacy curtain around his bed as she hurried away. When she returned, she had a set of gray sweats in her hands. "Time to get you out of my hair for a while, Colonel."

"You're springing me?" An uncontrollable grin spread across his face.

"You are officially sprung. Get dressed. Your team will be here in a few minutes."

He practically ripped the scrubs off when she left and tugged on the shirt and pants, reveling in the feel of real clothes. He gathered his personal items and was still hunting something to carry them in when Keller peeked inside then retracted the curtain. His team stood behind her wearing grins as goofy as his.

"Ready to go, I see." Keller handed him a gym bag. "Now, I want you to pay close attention. The exercise schedule doesn't change. No more than an hour of walking at a time, and you have to stop immediately if you feel winded. You are to report here everyday at 09:00 and 17:00 until I say otherwise. The mess has been informed of your dietary needs and will prepare a tray accordingly. You can eat there or in your quarters." She looked at him seriously. "Call me if you feel the slightest bit wrong."

"I will, Doc. Thanks."

"Then get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Teyla took his bag while Ronon and Rodney walked on either side of him, not quite touching but close enough to keep him from falling if needed. Everyone they passed called a greeting, and he was exhausted from smiling and standing tall by the time they reached his room. He stumbled inside, strong hands catching him and helping him to bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

"When I told Zelenka how disappointed you were about not playing in the tournament, he agreed to postpone it. You've got ten days." McKay shoved a stack of comics from the corner of his desk and set up the laptop.

"Hey!" John protested. "Watch the comic books. I won those from Chuck in a poker game a few weeks ago, and I haven't read them yet. And I'd like to remind you that you are the one all excited about this tournament, not me."

Rodney perused one of the comics. "Trash," he declared. "Dick Grayson will always be Robin. And don't even get me started on the post-_Crisis_ debacle."

"Who stole your cheese?"

"What?"

John sighed. "Never mind. What did you want to show me?"

Grinning, McKay pulled up security footage of Zelenka's lab.

"Oh, wow. Science experiments. My favorite."

"Shut up and watch."

Radek frowned at his computer and pecked at his keyboard. With a smile, he pulled a chessboard into view. He glanced between the monitor and the board then moved the black rook forward. Rotating the board, he scrutinized it for a solemn moment then captured the black bishop with his knight. He whirled back to the keyboard and entered some information. He blinked in surprise at his monitor then moved the black queen. Turning the board again, he propped his chin in his hand and stared.

"He's playing the computer?" John asked.

"Not just any computer. The Ancient database. Near as I can tell, he programmed the rules of chess into it and let it do its own problem solving."

"Isn't it cheating to watch him like this?"

Rodney's face twisted in thought. "No," he decided. "Cheating would be me reprogramming the Ancient database and changing the chess rules." McKay grinned manically. "Not a bad idea actually."

"How would that be cheating?"

"Can you imagine his face when suddenly the database goes kamikaze? It will drive him nuts. He'll spend days trying to fix it."

"And be too distracted to practice." John considered the idea. "I would prefer to win on my own like I do against you."

"Are you kidding? The only time you beat me is when I'm too distracted to think."

"Keep telling yourself that." All of John's energy suddenly leaked out of his body. Lying back, he curled on his side away from the computer. "Once the tournament ends though, definitely reprogram the database," he slurred. "We'll tape his reaction and post it on the intranet."

* * *

"Come in!" John called when the door chimed. Carter entered, and he stuck the pencil in the puzzle book, setting it aside. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"I thought you might like to take a walk."

"I'd love to." He stuffed his feet in his sneakers and tied them quickly. "Where to?" he asked as he stood.

"Dr. Keller says you're up to two hours at a stretch. That should get us to the west pier and back."

"Lead the way."

They headed out in an easy-going gait that allowed for conversation. Taking the transporter to pier level since he wasn't allowed stairs yet, they meandered through the bowels of the city, sparsely populated sections which permitted discussion of more sensitive topics. She updated him on recent personnel changes and the reasoning for them, ran through the latest mission results, shared news from the SGC.

And so his life fell into a pattern. Early morning walks with Ronon, breakfast with his team, a mid-morning walk with Carter to go over mission assignments, lunch with his team, mid-afternoon stroll with Lorne to discuss military issues and duty rosters, late afternoons with Teyla to learn healing stretches for body and spirit that somehow made him feel better, dinner with his team then Sudoku contests or chess with Rodney until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. Even with naps in between activities and a healthy appetite, his energy lingered in the basement. The nightmares weren't helping.

Waking with a strangled cry, John struggled against the sheet that bound his legs as the sweat began to cool on his skin. He kicked viciously, his heart pounding, until he was free, practically throwing himself out of the bed. Rubbing the barely perceptible scar on his chest, he stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, keeping the lights dim. His pulse slowly returned to normal as he braced his arms on the counter, head hanging low. He hadn't realized how much the arrhythmias had felt like the Wraith feeding until now. He could still feel the pressure in his chest, the pain radiating from his core and through his limbs.

Glancing up, he gasped at the face in the mirror. He'd caught his reflection when Kolya had returned him to his cell after the first feeding, and that man was looking back at him now – deeply lined face, dull eyes, spots of gray in hair that had once been black.

He was suddenly pissed – irrationally, inconsolably – at himself for being weak, at Keller for not catching it sooner, at his dad for having the audacity to die from his heart disease instead of suffering through it, at Elizabeth for asking him to come here then abandoning him, at General O'Neill for talking him into it, at Rodney and Ronon and Teyla for being healthy, at life, at God, at everything.

The trembling started in his knees, and he watched the color drain from the face of the angry man in the mirror. Then his world spun crazily and went dark.

* * *

No matter how many strange places he'd awakened in, the infirmary was the most identifiable – the antiseptic smell was a dead give-away.

"…from exhaustion. He's been pushing himself too hard."

Oh, crap.

"I do not understand," Teyla whispered. "He is rarely alone. What could he be doing?"

"He isn't doing anything bad or wrong," Keller answered. "Even the minimal activity he's been doing is too much. He walks for hours a day, and his body isn't ready for that yet."

"This is our fault." Ronon's voice.

"No. This isn't anyone's fault. Not yours and not the colonel's. It was bound to happen sooner or later. This is a setback, a minor one. A day or two of rest, and he'll be back at it."

"Then what do we do?" Rodney asked.

"What you've been doing. He needs the activity and the companionship. Just keep an eye on him. When you see signs of fatigue, even tiny ones, stop."

John decided it might be a good time to interrupt. "Hey," he called weakly.

"Colonel!" Keller's bright smile lit the room. "Good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

"Like an idiot."

"Back to normal then," Rodney declared, glowering at John when Ronon smacked the back of his head.

"OK, boys, that's enough," Keller announced before turning back to Sheppard. "How do you feel physically?"

"Tired, bit of a headache."

"Any nausea or light sensitivity?"

His brows drew together. "No. Why?"

"Because you hit that rock you call a head on the corner of the bathroom counter when you fainted." The concern on McKay's face contrasted nicely with the snappish tone.

"I did?" John reached for his temple where the throbbing was the strongest and found gauze and tape. "Concussion?"

"It doesn't appear to be. Just a nasty bump."

"How bad did I screw up, Doc?"

She smiled gently. "Not bad. Just a bump there too. You need to rest now. We'll revisit it in the morning. If your tests come back normal, I'll release you to your quarters." She turned to face his team. "You three need your own rest." She raised a hand at their protests. "Out. Now. I'll call you tomorrow when he's ready. And don't even think about sneaking back in here later."

Ronon looked sheepish, and McKay looked miffed. Teyla looped her arms through theirs and steered them to the door. "Do not worry, Doctor. I will make certain they do not return."

When John woke up in the middle of the night, Keller was tucking a blanket around Teyla who slept in a chair next to his bed.

"Go back to sleep, Colonel. Everything's going to be all right."

* * *

John stepped out of the bathroom and found Rodney stacking the CDs on his nightstand in ninety degree angles. "What are you doing?"

McKay whirled. "Oh, hey. I'm waiting for you. Get your shoes on."

Plopping on his bed, he laced up his sneakers. "Why are you here? I thought Ronon and I were going for a run."

"Not today."

"Do not even pretend that you're going running," John scoffed. "Yesterday was weird enough meditating with Ronon and playing chess with Teyla."

McKay quirked a brow. "Did she beat you?"

"She came damn close a couple of times. Who taught her to play?"

"I've heard a rumor that Sateda had a similar game and that Ronon is some kind of Grand Master. I'm scared to find out if it's true." Rodney picked up John's golf bag. "Let's go."

They headed out, taking the stairs down three levels.

"The hell with this," McKay panted, heading to the transporter. "Ronon said walk for at least an hour not climb stairs."

John blinked in confusion when they exited. "This isn't the way to the driving range."

"Not going there. And you are definitely hauling this bag back."

"It has wheels, you know."

"Really?" Rodney dropped it like it was on fire. "Ah, much better." He grabbed the strap and tugged it behind him.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"A good surprise like a week's vacation in Malibu or a bad surprise like 'get your ass in the chair because the Wraith are coming'?"

"Maybe not quite Malibu but definitely better than Wraith. I hope."

John glanced around the unfamiliar section of the city. He was sure he'd been here before since they'd explored almost every square inch of it, but he had no idea exactly where he was or what was down there.

"McKay-"

"I'm not telling you so stop asking. You'll find out when we get there. And this is the long way so you get your exercise."

Lower level but no moldy, spent-thousands-of-years-underwater smell. "Fine. Is Ronon meeting us there?"

"No. He's off-world."

Halting in his tracks, he stared at McKay. "What? Why didn't someone tell me?"

"I'm telling you. Relax. He's only been gone an hour. Cole's team brought back a rumor about the Athosians from one of our trading partners. He went to check it out. He'll be fine."

"Which trading partner? Not Belka." John breath caught in his throat, and his body started turning back to the transporter of its own volition.

"Where are you going?" Rodney grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Tell me he didn't go to Belka."

"He didn't go to Belka. He's on Manara."

John sagged in relief. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." They headed in their original direction. "What's wrong with Belka?"

"Nothing."

McKay rolled his eyes. "And you say I suck at lying."

"Really, there's nothing wrong with Belka. Ronon just can't go there. He isn't welcome."

"Why not?"

"He killed a man there a couple of years ago. The guy was a big trader from Belsa. I guess the Belkan authorities didn't take kindly to his death."

"Two years ago? Why don't I remember that?"

"Because we weren't there. We were on Doranda."

Rodney winced. "Oh. Why did he tell you and not me?"

"He didn't tell me. Hendon told me when we were there a few months ago during our tour to strengthen trade relationships."

"I don't understand why Ronon isn't welcome. Don't they understand self-defense?"

"It wasn't self-defense. He killed the guy in cold blood."

McKay screeched to a stop. "Ronon? Why?"

"Hendon didn't know. But he must have had a good reason. The guy was originally from Sateda."

Rodney gave a low whistle. "Wow. What did Ronon say about it?"

"I didn't ask him. If he'd wanted us to know, he would have told us." John took the golf bag from McKay and started walking again.

"Do you think he just doesn't trust us?"

"I think he doesn't think we'd understand. And two years ago, he would have been right," John admitted.

"And now?"

He gave Rodney a knowing look.

"Yeah. Right," McKay sighed.

"Besides, you saw his face when he introduced us to Tyre and the others. For Ronon to kill a fellow Satedan…. If he thought the guy didn't deserve to live, I'm not going to argue with him. Promise me you won't mention it to him or Teyla."

"I promise. You think Teyla knows?"

"She was there."

"So she's been keeping a secret from us too."

John chuckled. "More than one apparently."

"No kidding. I still can't- Hey, we're here."

"We are?"

Rodney pulled a piece of butcher paper from the wall. A small plaque embedded in it read _New Lantea Intergalactic Golf Course_.

"What did you do?"

Grinning, McKay swiped at the door controls, and John gaped in amazement. He'd intended to build a course one day, in the spare time that he never had. But this….

Green stretched as far as he could see, disappearing behind the buildings it was nestled between. Rolling hills, elegant fairways, sand traps, water hazards. A strong breeze blew in from the south, carrying the exotic floral scent of the mainland, and the sun warmed his skin.

"How- When- I, uh…."

"Like it?"

John bounced lightly on the green turf. "This is unreal. How did you do this?"

Rodney looked insulted. "I am a genius in charge of a staff of math and science nerds. This is no ordinary golf course. We took wind velocity, the roll of the ocean, and the angle of the buildings into consideration as we designed every hole. The rest was a matter of requisitioning the proper materials. The Marines might have helped with the labor side of things."

"How do you order this much Astroturf without anyone getting suspicious?"

"Put enough scientific jargon on something, and the powers that be rubber stamp it all the way through."

"Carter couldn't see through it?"

A smug grin appeared. "Carter designed the eighteenth hole. Of course, it isn't built yet. We've only completed the first nine."

Laughing, John pulled a driver from the bag. "Excellent. Let's see how she plays."

They strolled to the first hole where a tee and a bucket of balls awaited. John spotted the flag, put the ball on the tee, took a practice swing, lined up, and swung with all his might. The small white ball sailed true, landing on the green about a three feet short of the pole. When he reached for his bag, McKay pulled another driver out and lined up a shot.

"Since when do you play golf?"

"Who said I couldn't play golf?"

Rodney squinted and swung. The ball arced and landed to the side of John's.

"No way."

"Just because I don't doesn't mean I can't," McKay sniffed. "It's a game of variables. Candy for a scientist."

"Then it will like taking candy from a baby." John stuffed the driver in the bag and headed down the fairway.

"Ha! I'm going to win back my _Batman_ DVDs and get those Koch CDs too." He glanced at his watch. "But not today. We can't stay out here too long."

"Why not? I thought Keller said I was good to go."

"It's not that. I reprogrammed Zelenka's chess game. The file has been uploading in the background. He should start it up in a couple of hours. We can probably get three holes in before we have to head back."

"Video's ready?"

"Yep. Teyla's bringing the popcorn."

"Think he'll give me back my skateboard in exchange for the tape?"

"We are not exchanging that tape for anything. If you want your death board back, you'll have to do better in the next tournament."

"This from the man who lost an original _Hitchhiker's Guide_, one autographed by Adams himself, the one his sister gave him for his last birthday."

"You aren't going to tell her, are you? I'll win it back."

John grinned mischievously at him.

"If you tell Jeannie, I'll tell Teyla who put the gag candles in her quarters."

"You wouldn't dare."

McKay arched a triumphant brow. "Try me."

Huffing in defeat, John lined up the putt and sunk the ball. "Fine." Retrieving the ball, he stood aside as Rodney made the putt as well. Pulling the bag toward the second hole, he turned his face to the sun, soaking in the warmth.

"Hey, McKay. Thanks. This really is amazing."

"Yeah, well…." Rodney's ears turned pink at the praise. "Thanks for not dying."

"Anytime." John set up the tee and glanced back at McKay. "Fore!"

* * *

John poked at the runny scrambled eggs with a fork, startling when a chair scraped nearby. Ronon placed an overflowing tray on the table and folded himself into the seat to John's left.

"Nervous?" Ronon shoved a piece of toast with drippy eggs on it in his mouth.

Shrugging a shoulder, John munched a slice of bacon. "Not really." At Ronon's lifted brows, he dropped his fork and leaned back. "Maybe a little. I haven't been off-world in almost three months. I know this is an easy mission, glad-hand the locals and come right back, but it could go wrong in any number of ways."

"You'll be fine. You're up to an hour jogging, and your reflexes are good. I'll have your back, just in case."

"I know you will. I just hope…."

"You hope what?" Rodney asked.

"That you can eat all that without puking." John marveled at McKay's tray. "How do you manage to get that much food on there without spilling it?"

"I am a genius."

"He had help," Teyla corrected as she joined them. "Sgt. Miller filled his plate for him."

"You weren't supposed to tell," Rodney stage-whispered.

She chuckled. "Are you ready to go on today's mission, John?" Nibbling on a bran muffin, she looked at him expectantly.

"Sure. Can't wait. Should be fun."

"Liar," McKay muttered between bites. "This will be boring as hell."

"The Franscalonians are a pleasant people, Rodney," Teyla admonished. "They are kind, honest, and deserving of our respect."

"You're just saying that because you don't have to- Ow!" McKay glared at John. "What was that for?"

"To keep your foot out of your mouth. Try to keep it out until we get back. We need to keep good relations with these people."

"Are they the ones with the lizard things that taste like steak?"

"Yes," John answered, "and I'm looking forward to having a nice meal there this afternoon so don't blow it."

"Me? When was the last time I did something like that?"

John spooned runny eggs on a piece of toast and dug in as Ronon, with some help from Teyla, listed the last fourteen times Rodney's mouth had caused trouble for them. McKay blustered in protest while Teyla giggled and Ronon smirked. Surreptitiously checking his pulse under the table, John relaxed as a steady fifty-eight beats per minute pounded against his fingers. He ran through his mental checklist and smiled.

Standing, John announced, "I'll meet you in the ready room. It's time to go."

* * *

_Written for a prompt by stealth dragon/kriadydragon in sgagenrequest. Thanks to kristen999 for the beta._


End file.
